


War of the Worlds

by drwhogirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s13e07 War of the Worlds, M/M, Post-Episode: s13e07 War of the Worlds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 17:49:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12893457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drwhogirl/pseuds/drwhogirl





	War of the Worlds

As Asmodeus gave him his assigned task and left, Ketch couldn’t help sliding his eyes over to the huddled shape in the corner. He dared not approach with so many demons still watching but he had to reassure himself that he wasn’t being played. The man was still, too still but Ketch felt himself relax when he saw he was in fact breathing. Alive. Asleep or unconscious but alive nonetheless.   
He wasn’t really sure where to begin with this one. Finding Sam and Dean was one thing, he laid the trail of breadcrumbs and knew they’d come pecking eventually. But a Nephilim. Even in the men of letters that had been well above his pay grade. He couldn’t help thinking that Mick would know what to do. How to get through this without anyone getting hurt.   
That’s why he’d gone to the Winchesters. He needed help, he’d gladly admit that. His whole life he’d had someone there to help and guide him and be his moral compass but now… now he’d never felt so alone.   
Ketch was pulled from his reverie by the sound of chain links moving against each other and a whimper of pain. He wanted to call out, let Mick know that he was there. He was going to save him. But he couldn’t. To do so would be to show weakness. To show weakness would be to doom them both.

The ride back to the Bunker was a quiet one. Dean’s knuckles were white with how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. Sam on the other hand, sat quietly and watched. Waiting for Dean to eventually explode. He wasn’t sure what would push him over the edge. The fact that Castiel was missing or the fact that he’d been right about Ketch.  
Sam wasn’t sure he agreed with Dean’s views on the ex man of letters but he didn’t know if he agreed. What happened came across to Sam as an attempt to make peace. He didn’t agree with his brother that Ketch was inherently evil. But he did think that the way Dean was pushing him away would push him back onto that path.  
When they finally did make it back to the bunker, Sam was surprised to receive a text from an unfamiliar number.  
 _Hope you don’t mind. Got your number when you made the sandwich._  
Sam went into his contacts and saved the number as Alexander. He didn’t want Dean to twig who he was talking to after all and it was so on the nose it likely wouldn’t twig. He’d just finished when another popped up.  
Asmodeus has Castiel and wants me to go after Jack. Thought you should know.  
Sam typed out a quick reply.  
 _Why would you agree to that?_  
 _I don’t have a choice._  
Sam tried to think about the possible meanings behind that. Why wouldn’t he have a choice? He could have refused the job. That’s when Sam realised that Asmodeus must have something over him.  
“Who are you texting?” Dean asked irritably.  
“A contact. He says Asmodeus has Cass and he’s going to come after Jack. We need to save them both.” Dean just nodded and headed to get his computer to renew the search whilst Sam typed out another text.

_Thanks, we’re on it._  
That was good. Ketch couldn’t help but think that if they managed to save Castiel they would also save Mick. Then maybe they could get away. He wasn’t sure how they’d manage to escape completely from hell’s new ruler but he was nothing if not resourceful.   
He worked non-stop for the next week, trying to get a lead on Jack. He and Sam continued to text one another with any updates either of them had. Sam still hadn’t managed to get out of the other man why he had no other options until one day two weeks after the initial text.  
Ketch was surprised when he received a call from Asmodeus. He went as instructed down to the dungeons.  
“Why have you not yet brought me the nephilim?” Asmodeus demanded as he entered the room.  
“I have attempted to locate him but he is proving far more difficult to track than I originally thought.”   
Asmodeus narrowed his eyes at the man in front of him. “You swore you’d get him to me. Are you going back on your end of our bargain?” He snapped his fingers and a demon strolled in, dragging a bloody and bruised Mick with him. He threw the man on the floor before making a hasty retreat. “Because you and I both know that the spell that witch put on your little boyfriend won’t work again and I’m sure that if I killed him again I could make sure he stayed here with me. I think I see why you like him so much.” Asmodeus taunted, stroking Mick’s hair before wrapping his fingers in it and using that grip to pull Mick to his feet.  
“I assure you that I have every intention on bringing you Lucifer’s child. I just need more time.”  
“You have 24 hours. If he’s not here by sundown tomorrow, your boyfriend becomes my personal plaything for eternity.”  
“Understood.” He waited for Asmodeus to leave with Mick before he allowed himself to relax somewhat. He glanced over at the cell next to him and spotted a very familiar dark haired angel. “Castiel.”  
“What are you doing here?” Castiel asked, squinting his eyes at the man in front of him and tilting his head in a confused manner. “I thought you were dead.”  
“I was.” Ketch reached into his pocket and pulled out a lockpick. He glanced over his shoulder to check that nobody was around and started work on the lock.  
“What about me?” A voice called from the next cell. Ketch glanced up to see an unfamiliar blond man.  
“And you are?” Ketch asked as he opened the door for Castiel to step out.   
“How can you know Castiel and not me?” Lucifer asked, studying the man curiously.   
“Enough Lucifer.” Castiel scolded with a glare. “We’re not letting you out.”  
“But I can help!” Lucifer protested.   
“Maybe he could turn out to be useful.” Ketch studied lucifer calculatingly. He couldn’t trust lucifer. Of course he couldn’t. But maybe, just maybe he could be useful and it might even work out in his favour if he had the fallen archangel in his debt.   
“I doubt it. He’s useless without his powers.”   
“Hey! That’s mean!”  
“Even so, he has an archangel blade which is one of the few things that can kill a prince of hell.” Ketch explained, effectively cutting off their squabbling. He then turned to look at lucifer. “How about you give me the blade and then we let you out?”  
“How do I know you won’t turn the blade on me the first chance you get?”  
“You have my word as an Englishman.”  
“No good. I’ve known too many Englishmen.”   
“We don’t have time for this.” Castiel interrupted and they both knew he was right.   
“I’ll give it to you for a blood pact.”  
Ketch paused for a moment. It was quite a commitment but they were out of time and out of options. “Alright, fine.” Ketch took a blade out of his pocket and used it to cut his palm. Taking some of the blood into his finger, he used it to draw a symbol on Lucifer’s own palm. He then went on to recite the spell and promise he planned to make in perfectly fluent enochian. He felt a slight sting all over his body as the spell took effect.   
Lucifer studied him for a moment before, seeming convinced, passing the blade to Ketch, who slipped it into his pocket before getting to work on the lock.   
Once Lucifer was released, the rag tag trio headed towards the throne room.   
“I’m surprised it took you so long.” Asmodeus told them, not bothering to look up from Mick at his feet as he carded his fingers through the man’s soft hair. Mick seemed to be making a point of not looking at them and instead stared blankly at a spot a couple of feet in front of where they stood.   
Ketch chose not to respond to that remark, instead electing to pull out Lucifer’s blade whilst Castiel summoned his own.   
It was then that Ketch noticed why Mick hadn’t moved since they entered. A large blade had been stuck through his right hand. This was only brought to his attention when Asmodeus reached down to pull out the knife, making sure he twisted it painfully as he did so. He wiped the blade on the shirt of the nearest demon in order to get some, but not all, of the blood off.  
Whilst Castiel and Lucifer were distracted with lower level demons, Ketch faced up against Asmodeus himself.  
Mick tried to keep track of everything that was happening but there was too much going on. He caught bits though. Ketch blocking a blow from Asmodeus, Lucifer stopping Castiel being stabbed in the back, Asmodeus backing Ketch towards the throne. Ketch was so focused on his fight, he didn’t notice the steps behind him. As he tried to take a step backwards, his foot slipped on the unexpected step. Unable to regain his balance, he ended up flat on his back with the blade rolling away from his hand. Before he had a chance to even register what had just happened, Asmodeus had plunged a knife between his ribs.  
Mick glanced over at Lucifer and Castiel but they were both too busy to notice. With Asmodeus distracted by Ketch, Mick reached for the blade that Ketch had dropped.  
He was suddenly even more relieved that Asmodeus had assumed he was right handed. Without a second thought. Mick stabbed the Prince of Hell in the back, killing him instantly.   
Mick knelt down at Ketch’s side, hurriedly checking his vitals. Castiel approached, having fought off all the demons just as Ketch lost consciousness.   
“What should we do?” Mick asked.  
“We need to get him back to the bunker.” Castiel pressed his fingers to Ketch’s forehead and healed him as best he could. It wasn’t a complete fix and the man was still unconscious but at least he was safe to move now, and would remain stable until they managed to get help.  
Castiel took his phone back from Asmodeus and dialed a very familiar number.  
“Hello?”  
“Dean.”

“How are you still alive?” Dean asked as he stood outside the Asylum that housed hell’s throne.  
“The same way as Ketch. Rowena’s spell came in very useful for faking my death.” Mick explained, leaning heavily against the Impala as Castiel exited the building with Ketch in his arms. Mick sat down in the back seat and Castiel lay Ketch down on the back seat with his head in Mick’s lap. Mick reached down to stroke Ketch’s dark hair gently and was soon lulled to sleep by the sound of the engine.  
“I don’t believe this.” Dean muttered, more to himself than Castiel.  
“What don’t you believe?”   
“Ketch. He’s meant to be the bad guy but there he was, rescuing you and almost dying to do so.”  
“Asmodeus… Asmodeus enjoyed using people as leverage. He took Mick to control Ketch and hoped I could be used to control you.”  
Dean looked at the two brits in the rearview mirror. He didn’t fully understand what was happening but maybe, just maybe, he should give them a chance.

When Ketch finally awoke, it was three days later and he was lying in a surprisingly comfy bed. He did a mental check, there was no signs of pain and he definitely wasn’t being restrained. As he opened his eyes, he came to the realisation that he was in fact in the bunker. In the bunker and not restrained. That definitely wasn’t right. The bedroom door opened and he saw a very familiar shape in the doorway.   
“Mick? What happened?”  
“Lucifer has taken over hell and Sam and Dean have offered to let us move in. Your heroism impressed them.”  
“That doesn’t sound right.”  
“I also explained that you never wanted what happened to Mary and what would have happened if you hadn’t allowed it.”  
“I don’t know why I’m surprised, you always could sell salt to a slug.” Ketch quipped, laying his head back on the pillow.   
“Don’t sell yourself short. You were amazing and deserve every ounce of credit.”  
“Whatever you say Mick.”  
“You’re a hero Arthur, and I hope one day you can see yourself the way I do.” Mick stepped forward and placed a kiss on Ketch’s forehead.   
“Why did you call me Arthur?”  
“Well if you’re going to be my boyfriend I can’t keep calling you Ketch, can I?”  
“No, I guess not.”  
“Get some rest. Goodnight Arthur.”  
“Goodnight Mick.”

 


End file.
